


Lord and Lover

by Ralith



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 06:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralith/pseuds/Ralith
Summary: While tending to the King's wounds, Ironhide and Ratchet take a large step forward in a relationship years in the making.





	Lord and Lover

“A king is better suited to lead his people from the throne than from the grave.”

Ironhide rolled his optics, but sat good-naturedly for Ratchet to continue welding shut his newest wound.

“You would rather see me lead from the throne than the battlefield.”

“Preferably,” Ratchet grunted. “Your inner sanctum is impervious to blaster fire. Unlike your carapace.”

The king’s chuckle only made Ratchet’s frown more severe. Those focused optics and downturned lips made Ironhide’s own curl into a smile. Any spying member of his court would have called it almost adoring.

Welding torch folding away, the medic turned to inspecting his repairs, turning the arm over in his hands and brushing over the fresh welds with cautious, searching strokes. He was looking for flaws even Ironhide knew wouldn’t be there. There never were. Ratchet’s repair work was thorough and flawless, but his aftercare was exquisite. Though gruff and forceful in speech, his touch was always soft, as if pressing any harder or longer and he’d be crossing a line.

The court and his advisors had long lived under the rule disallowing relationships between the King and his peers. A bullshit rule in Ironhide’s mind. It kept what he desired most just out of reach. The medic’s hands already knew him like a lover. But they could never be…

Ratchet had served him since the very beginning. Surely his advisors could see he was fit for a King.

“I hate this, you know,” Ratchet spoke, his ministrations trailing off as they ghosted over the king’s wrist.

“I know you do, doctor. You have made it abundantly clear. But today it was nothing more than a mesh wound.”

“And tomorrow it could be your brain module or your spark.”

How many times had the medic cradled his king’s spark in his hands, barely managing to keep the flickering orb lit? He had lost count how many nights he’d fallen asleep at Ironhide’s bedside, hoping, on the verge of praying, that his king would survive until dawn.

“I can’t die,” Ironhide said with all the bravado he showed to rally his troops.

Ratchet never believed in immortality.

“If you died, there would be no future for us.”

“Untrue, Ratchet. There are plenty of bots able to take up the mantle of leadership were I to depart.”

“There would be no future for me.” Ironhide dared to meet Ratchet’s optics and what he saw in them was a bot who for the first time had dropped every barrier; he was left completely vulnerable.

Ratchet was fully aware of Ironhide guiding him forward until he was seated in the king’s lap, their gazes locked. Ironhide’s hand drifted to the medic’s cheek and hovered there, almost afraid to touch until Ratchet closed the gap and rested his head in the battle-scarred palm.

“Just who do you think I’ve been fighting for all these years?”

“My lord…” A medic and his king. The court would have scoffed at such a disrespect of the royal bloodlines. Ratchet had hidden every emotion he had for this bot so deep it ached in his core. But now, the hushed utterance of his king’s name was no longer an address to his position, but a sigh on parted lips that begged to be kissed.

And Ironhide did. Slowly, gently. Like he was still trying to convince himself the time had finally come.

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from my Tumblr with a new title.


End file.
